Lone Wolf not so Lonely
by The Sea's Wings
Summary: AU! Elinor was lucky, she was taken in by the people of Gondor the night she was found with no memory in the ruins of a burned village. Now she must use her talents to help the Ring Bearer, but nothing is ever truly what it seems.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Lone Wolf not so lonely

**Summary:** Elinor was lucky, she was taken in by the people of Gondor the night she was found with no memory in the ruins of a burned village. Now she must use her talents to help the Ring Bearer, but nothing is ever truly what it seems.

**Genre:** Action/Adventure

**Rating:** M

**Warning/s:** Blood, gore, swearing, implied sexual stuff

**Disclaimer/s:** I own only Elinor and her background story, nothing else

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><p><strong>Chapter One - Drifter<strong>

The breeze blew through the gaps in the trees, caressing all it came in contact with like how a mother caresses her distraught child, yet it was chilly, a mask of gentle comfort. It merely hardened her curious heart.

The bark on the trees was rough and cruel to unsuspecting hands, the grass would prickle at bare legs, butterflies retreated from the direction she was going, and all life in the forest was retreating from the darkening aura.

That dark aura was what drew her deeper in the forests 20 miles of Bree and all other contact from the race of men, and unlike most women she did not fear this powerful aura, more than anything, she was curious, what caused it and what would bring it so close to such a peaceful place?

She intended to find out.

She pulled the hood of her dark brown cloak over her head, effectively hiding her pretty, round shaped face and dark curly hair, all her tan skin and dark hair could no longer be seen, and the only thing that could identify her was her emerald green eyes that seemed to shine within her hood.

She would be pretty if her hair was not a tangled mess and pulled back into a simple ponytail and if she had washed again today she would be pretty, alas, she could not afford to stop in another Inn if she wished to indulge her curiosity.

Her worn down, brown leather boots pressed down onto the dry leaves, enticing a light crackle at every foot step. Dawn was disappearing far too quickly for it to be considered natural, she was well aware of that – whatever was here was dangerous but she did not hesitate in her path, she continued.

_My curiosity will be my downfall, one day._ She thought to herself, a wry smile spread across her lips. Her slender, tanned and callused hands twitched as the rest of her body tensed at the sounds of those wails, wails so high and cruel and sadistic, it was terrifying yet exciting at the same time.

It was as she ran that she found them, the four, small young men – Hobbits, she corrected herself – and they were running, clearly frightened. The cause of her curiosity had caused her fear, and, on a whim, she followed as she kept to the trees.

The four ran towards the lake, and she understood why, she had spotted them herself, they were hooded in black capes and rode on bloodied black horses that seemed to be driven to the point they would soon collapse.

The smell was atrocious, and she had to use all her self control not to gag.

Three of the four had managed to jump onto the small raft, made of several worn wooden planks held together with thin rope, which began to make port, and the last one was struggling to make it to the raft before one of the Riders could take him down.

He would not make it.

She ran faster and out of the dark cover of the shadowed trees. "_Nar_(fire)!" She yelled, and a burst of silvery white fire left her right hand which she threw out to the dark Rider, and the ball of silvery flame hit the Rider on the side and knocked it off it's horse.

The fallen Rider screamed and writhed as the silvery white flame spread over it's body, unyielding even as it ran and rolled in attempt to extinguish it. It was the fire of white magic and it would not stop burning until the creator wished it to stop.

The wielder turned to the raft, which the last Hobbit just jumped onto, they watched her in fearful awe except for one, the one with dark hair and large, sky blue eyes. Those eyes pierced into her emerald ones and her body shivered with uneasiness; he held something dark, part of the magic inside her called to it.

"Meet us at the Prancing Pony!" The dark haired one yelled to her, his request must not have been planned, she figured, from the surprised faces of his comrades.

She paused and pulled back her hood so he could see her face, she called out to him; "Look for Drifter!" Then, after covering her face once again, she turned and fled.

The dark haired, small, young man stared out towards the spot the young woman had once been; her emerald eyes haunted his mind.

"How far is it from here to Bree?" The plumpest of the four, Samwise Gamgee, asked one of his other fair haired companions.

"Twenty miles from here," Pipin answered in return to Sam's question, and the rest of the journey fell silent.

She had followed them; he remembered spotting her emerald eyes in the dark as they had ran from the Riders. The Ring felt heavy and too warm on his chest.

* * *

><p>Drifter had managed to sneak into Bree by mingling with a gaggle of young women, most likely farmer's wives, and she went to the rather cosy looking Inn, the 'Prancing Pony'. Inside it was smoky and Drfiter coughed a little before adjusting to the dim and smoky environment, her pack felt heavier as she glanced at all the men drinking merrily.<p>

"How can I help you, young sir?" Drifter turned her attention to the man behind the counter, he had a friendly face, and she approached him. "How can I help ye?"

"A glass of your red wine would be lovely sir," the man's eyes widened.

"Begging your pardon Miss," she ducked her head in acknowledgement of his apology as he got her the red wine she ordered, and he even gave her the whole bottle as an apology at the price of a single glass of wine.

The emerald eyed woman decided to hold her tongue and accept the gift; there was no use looking a gift horse in the mouth. She sat at one of the tables in the back and, deciding to throw caution into the wind, she drew back her hood.

Her cheeks and forehead had a few smudges of dirt; her knotted hair was pulled back into a simple, loose, low tail. She poured the wine in her glass and took a sip, her eyes fluttered closed at the bitter and rich taste – the bitterness would help to keep her senses sharp in such a homey place.

"Wine is an acquired taste," she turned to the person who dared to interrupt her peace, and she scowled, she should have been more careful.

The man who interrupted her wore the clothes that she knew only belonged to one man – that and the sound of his voice and his... unique smell helped her identify him – Strider, a Ranger. They had learned of each other, he distrusted her because of her use of dark magic, and she disliked him because he smelt terrible.

Drifter's lips curled into an unpleasant frown, her golden hoop earrings caught his attention as she shifted her position. "Strider, what a... pleasant surprise."

"Drifter," he acknowledged her presence with a nod. "You seem to still be stealing from others I see," said young woman merely rolled her eyes; she was well known for her habit of stealing from noble women and her obsession with treasure.

Her friends had told her in the past that she would have made a fine pirate.

"That woman had enough money to buy an entire trunk of these, one missing set won't harm her," she turned her nose up at him and took another sip of her drink.

Strider merely shook his head and chose not to respond, and all conversation died between the two, which Drifter was fine with.

She blew at the single lock of her curly hair that fell into her eye and finished the last of her bottle of wine – Strider was not interested in causing any trouble (for her specifically) so she would follow common curtsey and do the same for him.

It wasn't much longer, an hour or so at the most, when the little ones arrived. She left her (rather comfortable) seat in favour of greeting the Hobbits, Frodo spotted her as she stood and called for her, she gave the Hobbits a wry smile as she walked over and greeted them.

"Hello there Little Ones," she greeted them and ushered them to a table with enough room for the five. "What brings you so far from the Shire?" She asked; her face and eyes filled with genuine curiosity.

"We're here to find Gandalf, Gandalf the Grey," the dark haired Hobbit, Frodo Baggins, Drifter learned, elaborated for her at her blank look.

"Ah, yes, Gandalf, I haven't seen him for years," Drifter recalled and her emerald eyes softened with affection for the elderly wizard. "The last time I saw him, I almost got away with stealing his hat." At this Merry, one of the three fair haired Hobbits, and one of the two with brown eyes, laughed at that little piece of information, and Pipin, his equally fair haired but blue eyed cousin grinned.

Frodo looked sullen at the news, and Drifter frowned slightly before she clasped his shoulder gently; "I don't know why he would ask you to come here, but he will come, I'm sure of it." She patted him on the head gently before standing. "Now, I must have a bath, I'm in need of proper cleaning."

And with that, she departed.

* * *

><p>It hadn't been hard for her to sneak into one of the many bathrooms of the Inn, and she scrubbed her dirty body and hair as best as she could, she also decided to "borrow" some of the soap since she had ran out of her own, and then she retrieved a comb from her bag and brushed her hair.<p>

Once that rather laborious task was done she washed her dirtied under garments, it was just as she finished the last one she heard the scuffle out in the hall and the shouts of the Hobbits.

She stuffed her undergarments, soap and comb into her pack before shouldering it and she ran out of the bathroom and slammed into Strider who had his sword pointed at the Hobbits, she pinned his arms down and straddled his chest as she glared down at the tall man who looked shocked at her actions.

He was used to the snarky, compulsive stealing, honest and calm and collected Drifter, not this harsh and angered Drifter and at that moment he missed the old Drifter he bickered with.

"If you have disrupted a single hair on their hands, I'll show you the true meaning of the word 'witch', do you understand, stinky?" Had the situation not been so serious, the Hobbits would have died from laughter.

"I mean the Hobbits no harm, Drifter," Strider reassured the enraged woman. "But they need to leave; the Dark Riders will come for them."

Drifter regarded him with stony eyes before she got off of him, not bothering to help him up like a well mannered woman should. "Fine, but I will go with you, I won't subject them to the torture of dealing with your smell alone."

Strider scowled and stood, his sharp and rugged features coated in a thin layer of grime and dirt, part of him wondered what Drifter's reaction would be if he met her after he had freshly bathed. Shaking his head of such thoughts, he helped the woman collect the Hobbits' packs and belongings before escorting them to the other nearest Inn.

Tonight would be a long night.

* * *

><p>Drifter had gathered a small metal basin with water and soap to finish washing her clothes, it kept her busy and her mind away from Strider's body odour. She knew that she needed a plan, she had quickly become fond of the Hobbits and she had no intention of leaving, they were kind and seemed to like her company, so she decided to stay until they reached Rivendale where she would continue on her way.<p>

Rivendale was too filled with Light magic and it set her off balance, and she knew she would not be welcomed with smiles and protection, she used a more... grey magic, a mixture of light and dark, all they would see is the dark magic and distrust her if not refuse her entrance.

No, Drifter would rather move on without a fuss, she knew the Hobbits would be safe in Rivendale, nothing could harm them there. Or so she told herself, squashing all doubt into the very back of her mind.

A group of shrill screams filled the air, awakening the Hobbits and startling Drifter, who stood and joined Strider at the window, she stared and watched as the Dark Riders left the Prancing Pony and the town.

They would be back, she could feel it in her bones, and wry smile spread across her lips – she had found something to give her a thrill and sense of adventure again.

"You should rest, we will be leaving at dawn," Strider informed the Hobbits who, after a while, settled to sleep.

Drifter however, was unable to sleep and left the room to get another small metal basin filled with water, which she managed to do but she purposefully left the water cold and she managed to "borrow" some more soap for Strider. She was going to get him to bathe whether he liked it or not.

When she returned she set the new basin on a nearby vanity stand and she left a small rag on the edge for him. "Use this to wash yourself," she murmured as she turned to him. "If we're to travel together, I will not have either of us stinking for as long as possible."

Strider raised a single eyebrow before getting up and deciding to oblige simply for a little peace, and, not that he would admit it, he really wanted to wash, he did stink.

Drifter respectfully turned away as she started to work on cleaning Strider's clothes to the best of her ability. They continued in silence other than the occasional dripping of water. Drifter had used a discreet warming spell to dry out some of Strider's freshly washed clothes – she would not have him cleaned only to get smelly again from unclean clothes!

Once she had finished Strider had already finished and she changed into something a little more socially acceptable; a simple brown dress with divided skirts, she had her usual brown leather boots on too and she draped her cloak around her body to help keep her warm, she hesitantly joined Strider at the windowsill and gazed out into the streets.

Drifter couldn't help but notice his high cheekbones and strong hands, her cheeks warmed and she focused on watching the rain fall outside. She rubbed her hands together to keep them warm, drawing Strider's attention as she did so, his grey-blue eyes softened at the sight of her shivering ever so slightly.

"You should also rest Drifter," Strider spoke, breaking the silence, he was of course ignored by the emerald eyed woman who rested her chin on her palm and the dark haired ranger had to force himself not to sigh. _Stubborn woman._

"Drifter," she turned to look at him this time, her bright emerald eyes were guarded and Strider could not help but feel a little pity for the woman – she must not be used to such kindness, and Strider knew he was partly to blame. Well, since they were travelling together, they may as well attempt to get along. "Sleep, you look exhausted."

"I didn't know you cared Strider," she dead-panned, and it took Strider most of his will power not to make an equally childish response. "Besides, you look just as exhausted so you can't tell me to sleep, hypocrite."

Strider blinked in response, irritating the emerald eyed woman even more; "Not that I care, I'd rather just not be killed by those Riders simply because you're too tired to be properly aware." Her cheeks reddened and Strider merely indulged her by rolling his eyes, he knew she was lying.

"Sleep," this time, he wasn't pleading her, it was a command and, too tired and irritated to care, Drifter got up and climbed into the remaining bed.

"Fine then Stinky, just remember to wake me so I can also take watch." Strider did sigh this time, Drifter was so childish.

For a time, he watched Drifter's sleeping face, which wasn't scowling or smirking like when she was awake, she was completely relaxed and her hands were curled below her chin, her curled hair surrounded her face and tickled her skin, her lips remained slightly open and a little drool escaped her mouth – she looked so innocent and so un-Drifter like that the dark haired man found it hard to actually remember that it was _Drifter_, not a pretty, young, human female.

Strider was more than aware that Drifter wasn't human, at least, not fully, she was extremely pretty for a human female, but in comparison to the elves, she was plain, all of her plain except for her entrancing, emerald eyes, which he was sure was the only thing that hinted her Elvin decent. She was like him, not fully human and aged slowly, but not as slowly as the elves.

The Ranger turned his eyes from her, he had plenty of time to unveil her secrets, the walk to Rivendale was a long one and they would have to talk at some point. Oddly enough, the idea of having a more civilized conversation with her sounded very appealing, especially if incidents like tonight and her annoying pet-name would disappear.

* * *

><p>Strider didn't wake Drifter, which had annoyed her to the point that she whacked him on the head with her shoe, much to the Hobbits' amusement and Strider's ire. They set off, many of them (minus Strider) wondering where she had gotten so many supplies.<p>

Strider had set a harsh pace which the Hobbits found hard to cope with, and after a while Drifter suggested that they use the horse as a pack mule, which all but Strider approved of, and so Bill the pony was swamped with packs.

The Ranger didn't complain once he realized that they were indeed travelling faster, and they continued to travel until noon where they settled for a break and have some lunch. Drifter cooked a light meal of fried chicken and vegetables and potatoes, which was eaten quickly. Once the dishes and pots were cleaned they set off to continue for the day.

They stopped roughly an hour before sun down to set camp, Merry was given the task of collecting wood with Pipin, Frodo was to collect the needed ingredients from the packs at Sam and Drifter's command and Sam retrieved the pots, plates and pans to help Drifter cook their meal.

That night was quiet - the Hobbits fell asleep quickly from exhaustion – except for the usual argument on who was to keep watch from Strider and Drifter, which was soon becoming a routine.

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><p>It was on their third day when they camped for the night in an abandoned and ruined tower, Strider had opted to keep watched as Drifter started making some soup, making sure to use a veiling spell to hide the fire from watching eyes.<p>

"This is it?" Merry asked rhetorically as the others dug into their soup, too hungry to be fussy.

"Yes," Drifter replied. "I cannot keep the spell for long without tiring, besides, I can sense more Dark beings nearby, it's better to be safe than sorry."

"Speaking of spells," Sam said, hesitating a moment as he decided on the best way to approach the subject. "What kind of magic do you use?"

Drifter remained silent for while as she sat and gathering her thoughts, the Hobbits waited impatiently for her answer. "I use a combination of both light and dark magic – I was cursed when I was younger, half of my light magic would turn to dark and with the arrival of the dark magic... my memories disappeared."

The Hobbits' eyes were wide in awe and sorrow.

"How did you find it out if you don't remember anything?" Frodo asked, he wasn't the slightest accusing, and it made Drifter relax – what worried her was that she didn't notice that she tensed up – and she answered the usually shy Hobbit's question.

"A few years ago, seven I believe, my magic began to get out of control, the healers and other magic users in my home had tried to calm my powers but nothing worked, luckily, Gandalf was in my home town at the time and sensed my magic – he balanced my powers so I could use both magics without too much damage done to my body."

Merry and Pipin listened in awe, almost dropping their soup from lack of concentration, Sam sipped his soup as he listened politely and Frodo felt the weight of the Ring more than ever as Drifter told her tale. "Wouldn't your powers become unbalanced again, Drifter?"

Drifter nodded her head at Frodo's question. "Aye, they would, but since you'll be meeting with Gandalf I'm sure he'll be able to balance my powers again, I'm in need of a 'check-up' anyway." She replied with a wry smile. "I'll wait in the forests for him."

"Won't you come into Rivendale with us?" Pipin exclaimed, as if he was both worried and insulted that Drifter wouldn't accompany them into the famous Elvin city.

"I would, but I do not like staying in one place too long, I will become restless and I have a tendency to steal and break things when I become restless." The Hobbits eyed each other warily after her little explanation.

Strider, who had been listening to the entire conversation from behind one of the crumbling walls, emerged and joined his companions in the centre of the ruins. "There's nothing, and that will remain so if there are no fires."

Both Pipin and Merry looked disheartened at that, and Drifter passed the Ranger a bowl of soup. "Eat Stinky, you'll need the strength for travel tomorrow," she stood and stretched her arms and cracked her back to loosen the sore and tense muscles. "Now, it's my turn to keep watch, I'll return in a few hours."

It took a while for Drifter to find a comfortable spot, but once she did she sat and stared out around the landscape and, once her eyes adjusted to the dark, she merely sat and observed.

She had three hours alone in the cold and darkness, she really hated camping.

* * *

><p>Drifter awoke, she didn't realize that she had fell asleep, and she sat up slowly, massaging her neck gently, which had turned sore from the uncomfortable position. Her cheeks warmed once she realized <em>where<em> she had been sleeping, her head had been resting on Strider's thigh as she laid on her side.

"Why'd you let me sleep Stinky?" She had meant to apologize, but she accidently slipped that little exclamation out, she sighed and murmured; "I'm sorry."

Strider nodded his head slightly to show that he had accepted her apology, the curly haired young woman stared out into the night. "Strider," she muttered.

"Aye?"

"Do you... know what has become of Gandalf the Grey?" Strider stilled and Drifter waited patiently for a response, she took in the details of his weathered and slightly weary face, there were laughter lines around his eyes, and there faint lines around the front of his eyebrows, hinting years of scowling or intense concentration. Drifter was shocked with the sudden realisation of how little she knew about him.

"No, I do not," she lowered her emerald eyes and heaved a weary sigh, she had dreaded (dreaded, not feared) that response. She jumped as Strider's calloused hand clasped her shoulder. "Fear not, Drifter, he will have his reasons for why he hasn't arrived."

Drifter hesitated a moment before resting her hand on his. "Even Gandalf cannot avoid death," he squeezed her shoulder and what surprised her was that he didn't pull away from her touch.

"He will not fall, not today." She turned slowly to him, afraid of what she would find; his face was gentle and warm.

Her eyes lowered to his lips for a single, brief moment but she squeezed his hand gently; "Not today," she agreed with a small smile, her cheeks heated but she did not turn away from his unusually gentle face.

Those familiar, shrill shrieks startled the Ranger and Mage, both leapt to their feet and ran to the ruined stair case; they had to get the Hobbits to safety.

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><p><em><strong>Chapter word count: 4,130<strong>_

_**Story word count: 4,130**_

**Can you guys please give me some constructive criticism? Any pointers?**

**Oh, the words I translated are Elvin, I found a website to translate Tolkien's Elvish into English.**

**Here's the link;** /elvish/eng_to_

**Have a nice day peeps!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Lone Wolf not so lonely

**Summary:** Elinor was lucky, she was taken in by the people of Gondor the night she was found with no memory in the ruins of a burned village. Now she must use her talents to help the Ring Bearer, but nothing is ever truly what it seems.

**Genre:** Action/Adventure

**Rating:** M

**Warning/s:** Blood, gore, swearing, implied sexual stuff

**Disclaimer/s:** I own only Elinor and her background story, nothing else

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><p><strong>Chapter Two – The Poison<strong>

_**Last time...**_

"_He will not fall, not today." She turned slowly to him, afraid of what she would find; his face was gentle and warm._

_Her eyes lowered to his lips for a single, brief moment but she squeezed his hand gently; "Not today," she agreed with a small smile, her cheeks heated but she did not turn away from his unusually gentle face._

_Those familiar, shrill shrieks startled the Ranger and Mage, both leapt to their feet and ran to the ruined stair case; they had to get the Hobbits to safety._

_**Now...**_

The stairs were rough and bitterly cold underneath the worn soles of her boots, and the icy wind tore at her weary face, her hands drifted to the knives strapped to her thighs, she held onto the hilts and pulled them out of their holsters effortlessly.

Both she and Strider returned to the camp on one of the few platforms on the stairs empty, both noticed the ruins of the fire were still smoking; a fire had been lit and inevitably caught the attention of the Dark Riders. The air grew colder by the second from the presence of the Dark Riders drawing ever closer and Drifter began to wonder if tagging along with those Dark-Creature-prone-Hobbits was a good idea. (She still doesn't know about the Ring)

At the shout of the Hobbits' shouts the two humans locked eyes before tearing up the crumbling stairs, Drifter felt her heart ache and constrict as she sprinted up the stairs, Strider grabbed an old torch and proceeded to light it whilst running. The emerald eyed young woman sheathed one dagger and prepared to use her magic, light or dark, to protect the Little Ones.

The sound of Frodo's agonized screams sent a cold fear running through her, as if she walked through an ice cold rain storm, and she ran faster, her legs burning as she passed the Ranger and soon, she left him in the dust. She reached the top of the stairs, and the Little Ones, just in time with Strider joining her on the opposite side of the top of the tower, to take down the Dark Riders.

Drifter struck two with a "_lyg_(snake)", black serpents rushed out of her left sleeve and grappled with two of the Dark Riders, sinking their fangs into the dark and rotting flesh. The snake's venom had no effect on the Dark Riders and two turned to her as Strider attacked the others with the flaming torch and his sword. For once deciding to follow his example, Drifter shot a "Nar(fire)!" at the two approaching Dark Riders, who screamed their shrill, wailing scream as the silvery flame spread over their bodies.

The Dark Riders retreated after that, and both Drifter and Strider approached Frodo, who laid on the icy stone floor, gasping in pain. His eyes were wide open and looked close to bulging out of their sockets; the whites of his eyes were turning a faded pink in the corners.

_Poison,_ Drifter thought immediately.

"The blades of the Dark Riders are poisoned," Strider explained to Sam, confirming Drifter's thoughts. "My healing skills won't help him, he needs the care of the Elves."

"Let me take him," Drifter pleaded to Strider as he carefully picked up the wounded Hobbit bridal style, the Ranger shot her a look that showed despite how pleasant he had been turning their journey together so far, he didn't trust her. That revelation made her bitterer than she expected. "I'm the faster rider out of the two of us, and he won't make it if we travel on foot or if you ride with him."

"There are Dark Riders everywhere, you'll never make it!" Strider argued back as the Hobbits rushed ahead to pack everything before they left to find the elves, and to get away from the heated argument.

"And if we're on foot Frodo will stand less of a chance, and the same again if you ride!" She glared at him before grabbing him roughly by the shoulder to get him to face her. "This isn't about our differences Strider, Frodo is dying, he needs the best chance he can get and you know it!"

There was a flicker in Strider's eye as she mentioned their 'differences', he turned to continue to the camp before she could decipher what that flicker was. "Strider!" The Mage yelled after him, and she grunted in frustration before following him when she was ignored. "Did you listen to a word I sa-"

"Get on the horse," the Ranger's voice was gruff as he hoisted Frodo on the horse. "And don't fail him," Drifter knew that he secretly meant; _'don't fail me'_, and so, with a single nod, she climbed onto the horse and rode towards Rivendale without looking back.

Strider watched the two leave, he heard the shrill scream of one of the Dark Riders and he scowled; none harmed the Dark Riders without severe consequences, consequences that could cost the young Mage her life.

* * *

><p>She didn't dare to stop the horse for rest as she rode hard towards Rivendale, she was pushing the beast at dangerous levels, but she refused to let someone she cared for to die, not whilst she could do something to stop it.<p>

And so, she urged the horse to run faster in broken Elvish, and she cast an energy charm on the horse to give it more energy to continue. Drifter knew she was going to have sores coating the insides of her legs for days, but she could not bring herself to care for now.

She was not far from the great river that marked the end of the magical barrier to protect Rivendale when she heard those shrill screams that penetrated her ears and sent an icy chill into her heart, after riding hard non-stop for a day, she expected this, and urged the horse to go faster, it was all she could do.

The Dark Riders, all nine, were gaining on her and soon, they would catch up. Her bones chilled with fear and her emerald eyes narrowed as she thought of a plan, anything that could help them escape. It was then she recognised that faint whistle and it was too late, she let out a shrill scream as the sword of one of the Dark Riders slammed through her shoulder, ripping into the joint and spraying warm, sticky, blood onto the dazed Hobbit in her arms and down her arm and chest.

She almost lost hold of Frodo, but stubborn out of pride, she continued on riding and held even tighter to him, she pushed the horse through the chilled river, where she cast a spell to flood the river too much for the Dark Riders to pass across.

At was at times like this she grieved over having no talent for the arts of healing. She slumped over from the pain and commanded the horse in broken Elvish to carry onto Rivendale, which was barely a fifteen minute trot from the river, which she was grateful for. As the horse trotted she leaned forward over Frodo, using her body to protect him and she held onto the horse's neck; she felt so weak, and her bones were on fire, her flesh was burning and the air was scorching like the air around lava as she attempted to breathe slowly to calm down.

She couldn't afford to do something stupid.

Not that she could – she was far too weak to do anything but hold onto Frodo and the horse, which was coated in sweat, as was she. The combination of deadly poison and large usage of magic (for her) had drained her nearly of all her strength.

She could hear vague shouting, and she nearly cried from relief, the guard patrol must have found them, she thought. She was lifted gently from the horse, and Frodo was taken from her weakened arms, she let him go, he was safe now.

Knowing that he was safe, she finally allowed herself to succumb to the darkness.

* * *

><p>Drifter felt like she was in bliss, she was in a warm comfy bed with the sun's rays warming her skin, she felt clean and there was nothing dangerous around, then only thing that felt uncomfortable was the amount of light magic around the area. The emerald eyed woman was too comfortable to care though, in comparison to the places she had been in the past, she was in heaven and she took advantage of what she was given.<p>

"When will she wake, Lord Elrond?" Frodo's voice drifted into her ears and her heart swelled with joy, he was healthy and safe again.

"I do not know Master Baggins," so she was in Rivendale, and from the sound of it she wasn't in a dungeon, so she was mildly surprised, but not overly so, maybe the elves weren't so bad after all.

"Maybe you should ask the patient," she murmured, a smile spreading over her lips when she heard Frodo gasp in surprise, Drifter opened her eyes and sat up slowly, mindful of her sore and aching legs and shoulder as she smiled at the shocked Hobbit.

"Hello to you too Frodo," her mirthful voice broke the Hobbit from his stupor and he jumped on the bed and hugged her tightly, much to both her and Elrond's surprise.

"Drifter! You're alright," she hissed when he jarred her legs.

"Frodo, mind the legs," she hissed out painfully, and the Hobbit did as requested, his cheeks red from embarrassment and shame for causing her pain. "Don't give me that look, you've done nothing wrong."

Frodo brightened suddenly; "The others! They'll be happy to see you, I'll go and get them!" He ran out of the room.

"Tell Strider he's banned from entering unless he's bathed sometime today!" Drifter shouted after the dark haired Hobbit, she smiled softly in amusement.

"Lady Drifter," the curly haired and emerald eyed woman tensed, she had forgotten he was in the room. His face was serious and, with his long, silky, dark hair, intense blue-grey eyes, high cheek bones and pale skin, she could tell Lord Elrond had been beautiful in his younger years whereas now he had stress and laughter lines around his eyes and brows. "I hope you understand that we can't leave you unsupervised."

"Because of my dark magic, am I right?" When he nodded a bitter smile crossed her lips. "It's better than I expected, I was expecting complete and total imprisonment in the dungeons." Drifter knew she was being childish, but if she really was here to cause harm, why would she have taken such huge and dangerous risks to get to Rivendale?

She really wondered if people's prejudices overcame their common sense.

Before Lord Elrond could respond the Hobbits rushed into the room and flooded Drifter's bed, their cheery smiles and merry mood distracted Drifter from her bitterness towards the elves, for which she was grateful.

Strider soon joined them, wearing fine clothes of Elvin royalty, must to her surprise. The dark turquoise and navy blues suited the Ranger and he was clean and freshly shaved, it brought out more handsome features that she had missed in the past, and she felt her cheeks grow hot.

"You gave us a mighty scared there Drifter!" Merry exclaimed, catching the young woman's attention quickly.

"Indeed you did, slept for four days you did!" Pipin piped up, and Drifter winced at the amount of time she had slept, so much time wasted on sleeping and healing bothered her a great deal.

"Would you fine gentlemen please leave the room? I need to change," the Hobbits seemed too happy to care that she was a little rude and snappy, but Strider and Lord Elrond had obviously picked it up.

Once they left Drifter sighed and stood slowly, her aches stung but not terribly, her legs did shake from lack of use as she moved slowly to the vanity where a golden jug of cool water sat next to a small basin. She stripped before giving her womanhood, armpits, face and hands a good scrub. Once that was done she wondered to the wardrobe and pulled out a simple primrose yellow, long sleeved dress with a skirt that dragged on the floor and pulled it on. Once that was done she brushed her hair and pulled it back in a loose tail – if the wind blew her hair would be lost to tangles and knots, something she didn't want.

Once she checked that her earrings were still in place she left the room slowly, her sores aching a little, and met up with the Hobbits outside, they explained that Strider left to talk to a 'lady friend' of his and Elrond left for some business concerning a council meeting. At the mention of 'lady friend' Drifter felt her mood dampen and she forced herself not to scowl, why should she care if Strider spent some time with other women? She had no interest in the smelly man.

Her blooming cheeks contradicted her thoughts.

* * *

><p>It took Drifter longer than she liked to follow the Hobbits into the gardens to laze and read with them, she sat underneath a willow tree and Merry and Pipin cuddled either side of her, leaning into her sides whilst she had her arms draped over their shoulders. Frodo laid with Sam in front of her feet, all of them had been mindful of her healing legs and left shoulder, and they had rested in the shade like lazy cats hiding from the heat of the sun.<p>

The emerald eyed woman rested with her eyes closed but she did not sleep, she could feel that she was being watched, most likely by one of her assigned stalkers, and she couldn't help but feel uneasy at being in such a weakened state around people that could easily turn against her.

Strider rarely left Frodo's side, so was his lady friend really that important to him? _She must be_, she thought bitterly. _But why should I care? I barely tolerated his presence before this little quest, what changed it?_

She knew that that night in the tower and the Inn had changed how she saw Strider – he was kinder than she expected, far too serious and a man of few words, but kind all the same. That was what drew her to him, she wanted to get under his skin and get a reaction besides his serious exterior and a few kind words, she wanted more, to see more of him, which his lady friend must be able to see if he was willing to leave Frodo's side, that, or he trusted her more.

However, she would never admit those doubts in her mind to anyone, she was unsure of how she felt about Strider, what did these feelings mean? Could she be misinterpreting these feelings of loneliness for jealousy? What if it was the other way around?

Drifter hated not being sure of anything, and she seemed to be sure of very little these days.

The sound of the gates opening from the road below awakened her from her darkening thoughts and, curious, she carefully dislodged Pipin and Merry so not to wake them, and she walked to the wall of the large garden, near the stairs leading to the main path near the gate of Rivendale. She gasped as she recognised the human male with reddish brown hair, brown eyes, slightly large nose and noble clothing, it was her dear old friend who she had considered family during the time she had lived in Gondor.

"Boromir!" She yelled and, getting his attention, he turned to her and a large smile graced his features. The emerald eyed woman descended the stairs as fast as her healing legs would allow her, and Boromir left his horse as she descended the steps. They met in a large hug, where the tall nobleman swug her around in circles, she laughed, feeling light and protected in this man's arms.

"Elinor!" He yelled her true name and he held her tightly to his chest once more before pulling back, keeping her at an arm's distance but his hands lingered on her arms. "You've barely aged a day since I last saw you!"

Drifter, no, Elinor, smiled softly and she caressed the side of his face with fingers too gentle to onlookers who were unaware of the true nature of their relationship. "You've aged very little yourself in the last five years I've seen you."

Boromir turned to his advisors, who Elinor only just noticed. "If you'll excuse us? I have quite a fair amount of catching up to do with my sister." At the acceptance of the advisors, the two 'siblings' left to catch up, the other Gondorians whispered about the appearance of the 'Steward's Sorceress'.

* * *

><p>Elinor had taken Boromir back to the Hobbits, who were remarkably still asleep, and she sat on a nearby marble bench and proceeded to tell him everything that had happened in the five years she had left Gondor.<p>

She explained how she managed to steal some fireworks from a village to get rid of their wolf problem and claim the reward before they figured that she stole and used their precious fireworks. She told of how she managed to drown several orcs with the use of a few puppets and an old well, as well as other stories that had the Gondorian Lord laughing long after the tales had been told. Once her most recent tale of her arrival to Rivendale had been told (minus her concerns with Strider and their little 'moments') Boromir's smile turned into a frown.

"Dear Elinor, you have been mislead," he murmured as he clasped her hands, unknown to the two Strider had happened upon the scene and, with his advanced hearing, he listened in on the conversation as he hid behind one of the willow trees in the little clearing – to keep 'Elinor' safe. "The Hobbit was in possession of the One Ring."

Elinor snorted; "The One Ring is merely a myth Boromir," she squeezed his hands gently and feared that he had been over worked if he was convinced of such stories, especially when he was so sceptical of anything magical or mythical (to the point that it had taken her nearly an entire month to prove to him that she really was a Mage not long after she discovered it herself).

The Gondorian sighed wearily; "That is why I've been called to Rivendale dear sister," Strider, for the life of him, couldn't understand why the true nature of their relationship relieved him so much. "The decision of the One Ring will be decided within the next four days."

The emerald eyed woman's frown deepened. "I see... what will you do?"

Boromir raised his eyebrows. "You will be joining me, dear sister."

It took a moment for her brother figure's brash statement to sink in. "WHAT?"

* * *

><p>"Why am I being dragged to this meeting again Boromir?" Elinor asked, again. She saw the Gondorian nobleman roll his eyes and proceed with the same answer; she was there so he could keep an eye on her. "I don't need you to babysit me."<p>

The Gondorian man raised an eyebrow incredulously; "Need I remind you of the incident with the chickens and the gypsies?"

The emerald eyed woman sent him an irritated look and followed silently after her brother-figure, pouting childishly, how was she to know that the gypsies would suffer from the experiments of her magical potential on the local farmers' chickens?

The two were part of the second group, the humans, to arrive, and Elinor was impressed by the diverse amount of races that had arrived; a Wizard (Gandalf, who Elinor waved to), a Mage (Elinor), Hobbits (Frodo), Elves of course (from Mirkwood, Lotherin(sp?) and Rivendale), Dwarves and Humans.

And so, once all were settled, the war council began.

Elrond started a small speech explaining why they were here, and asked Frodo to bring forth the Ring, which the terrified Hobbit did, and all leaned forward to gaze at the Ring, except for Elinor who drew back and tightened her grip on the arm-rests of her chair. The dark and sickly magic called out to her, and she prayed that her will power wouldn't fail her to keep a resistance and to evade being hunted by the entire Elven race.

Boromir stood slowly, almost making the poor Mage jump. "Friends, why don't we use this Ring? Long has Gondor held off the forces of Mordor with the blood of our people to keep your lands safe, we could use this Ring against Sauron!"

Elinor's eyes slowly closed and she felt anger and pity overwhelm her; the Steward had most likely forced Boromir to attempt to get the One Ring into Gondor and use it's power. The Steward was honestly quite mad if he thought it would work, and it infuriated her that he would try something to foolhardy.

What had happened to her home, if it resorted to this?

"No-one can wield it," Strider spoke up, interrupting Elinor's dearest friend, both of the Gondorians turned sharply to Strider, one gaze annoyed and the other grateful. "The Ring answers to Sauron alone and only he can wield it."

The Gondorian nobleman snorted and sneered; "And what would a mere Ranger know of this?"

One of the elves from Mirkwood, with pastel purple coloured, silk robes, stood up instantly and called out; "He is no mere Ranger; this is Aragon, son of Atharon, you owe him your allegiance!"

Boromir's sneer was wiped from his handsome face and he turned paler than the emerald eyed Gondorian had ever seen him from her recollection. "This, is Isildur's heir?"

"And heir to the throne of Gondor," the elf stated with a satisfied smirk, as if happy to quieten Boromir.

"_Havo dad_(sit down), Legolas." Aragon murmured, but loud enough that Elinor managed to catch it. The elf, whose hair was so blond it looked almost white, sat slowly, his eyes were a piercing icy blue, his skin a milky white and his hair was long, with small braids and it was incredibly shiny and silky.

The Mage resisted the urge to glare in envy at Legolas, she wished her hair was as straight and silky as his, how did he do it?

Soon, chaos erupted as the races argued on what to do with the Ring, and all Elinor wanted to do was to set their trousers on fire so they would stop bickering; she had a splitting headache thanks to the Ring and all she wanted to do was either hit something or rest.

She turned, as did others, as Frodo stood up and announced that he would carry the Ring to Mordor, his speech lost power however, as he flushed and confessed that he did not know the way. Elinor still considered him brave despite that and she stood slowly, alongside Gandalf, and joined Frodo.

"I will help you on your way Frodo Baggins, as long as the Ring is your burden to bare," the elderly wizard clasped the young Hobbit's shoulder, his eyes twinkled with reassurance for the brave Hobbit.

After a moment of hesitation, Elinor stood proud and square, coming across as strong and as confident as possible. "I may not be as strong as Gandalf here in Magic, but I'm far more well-rounded; my magic and knives will be your shield for as long as you are happy for it to be so." The Mage knew she was being far too formal, but she had to show how serious she was.

Soon, Aragon joined the group, as did a Dwarf noble by the name of Gimili, Legolas also joined, as did all the other Hobbits who had been in hiding and eavesdropping on the council, and Boromir also joined – they created the Fellowship of the Ring. Despite the reassuring gaze and presence of Boromir, Elinor had never felt so terrified in her life.

* * *

><p><em>Hello peeps, I hope you liked this one so far!<em>

_**3,924 words**__! Holy crap! I haven't written this much for a long time!_

_Anyway, __**send me some reviews for criticism **__and what-not, I might reply, I might not, it depends whether you're not stating the obvious or not. (Sorry, in a b*tchy mood this afternoon, haven't had enough sleep and I'm bored stiff!)_

_**Chapter word content: 3,924**_

_**Story word content: 8,054**_


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